That's An Order
by emmylouuwho
Summary: 5.04 Becker's thoughts as he holds Jess in the car.


**Author's Note:** So yeah, I was feeling angsty after all the fluff I've written over the past week. You've been warned. Also, boo for rain and thunderstorms ruining fireworks.

* * *

><p>"Matt, Abby, can you hear me?" No response. <em>Bloody comms are useless.<em> Becker ripped the offending earpiece out and threw it angrily. "Comms are down," he said, directing his comments to Emily now, who was standing next to him near the hood of the SUV.

Jess was in the backseat of that SUV, just waiting for them to be able to leave. She needed to get to a hospital before her allergic reaction got much worse. It didn't help that the beetles had already gotten into the loading dock. It was only a matter of time before more of them found their way there. Only a matter of time. Time that Jess didn't have.

"Where the hell is Abby? We need to get Jess out of here now."

"I'm sure they're working on it," Emily, ever the voice of reason, replied.

He could tell she was trying to keep him calm, despite the concern she was obviously feeling for the girl in the backseat. But he didn't want to calm down. He wanted, needed, to act. To do something.

_Well, they better work faster_, he thought furiously. _Jess is..._ He couldn't say the word, couldn't even think it. After all the people he'd lost, Jess wasn't about to be next. He'd make sure of it.

Suddenly Jess shrieked from the backseat, and both Emily and Becker's heads whipped around. Becker yanked open the door to her continued screams and cries of "Get them off me! Get them off me!"

"Where are they?" Becker asked, looking Jess over. "Where?"

There were no sign of beetles - _she must be hallucinating again_ - but she was shivering even more violently now. Becker stripped off his jacket, wrapping it around her, all the while trying to soothe her.

"Shh. You're fine, you're fine. Come here."

He sat down on the seat, pulling her head and shoulders onto his lap, and Jess' icy fingers latched onto his forearm immediately.

"I'm so cold. I'm so cold," she said, her voice shaking.

"I know, I know. You're safe." Emily wordlessly handed him the water bottle after opening it. "You've got a fever. Here, you need to drink this. That's an order."

He wanted to goad her back into her normal self. It was as though part of his brain thought that, if he could make her irritated with him, or have her talk herself into a corner the way she always did, suddenly she'd be alright again.

"You're mean. You know that?"

It he hadn't been feeling so terrified, Becker might've laughed.

"Yes, I do know that. I'm very mean. Now drink this."

He held the bottle to her lips, and she took the tiniest of sips. And even that made her cough, the sound painful to his ears.

"I hate you," she said, still coughing.

"No you don't."

He placed a hand on her forehead, and wrapped his jacket more securely around her shoulders. _God, she is burning up. She needs a doctor now._ Every part of him wanted to go. Run. Do something, anything. Jump into the driver's seat and drive straight through the loading doors. Anything to get Jess to a hospital faster. The only problem was, as head of security, he knew, in excruciating detail, how bad of an idea that was. He'd been the one to insist on reinforced concrete and steel at all the exits, after all. They were built to withstand exactly that sort of thing.

Becker reached up to set the water bottle on the roof of the car, feeling like someone was ripping his heart out. Even in the midst of anaphylactic shock, she was still the same ridiculous Jess, and it was killing him. Because he was scared shitless that any moment it could end. That any moment, she could...

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice softer, less distinct now. She snuggled into his arm, the one she was currently using as a pillow, her cheek scorching with fever. "You're nice really... You've got lovely hair... Can I touch your ha..." She trailed off with a sigh.

_Don't leave,_ he silently pleaded with her. Emily had resumed her position beside the hood of the car, and discreetly turned away, but he still kept his thoughts to himself. As always. Where Jess often said too much, he said too little. _Don't leave me. Please,_ he thought, willing her to listen for once, and almost smiled. Jess told him just last week that everything that came out of his mouth sounded like an order.

* * *

><p>"<em>Are you saying I'm rude?" he asked, one eyebrow arched, as they made their coffees in the break room. Standing side by side, closer than was strictly necessary for both of them to reach the coffee pot and cream and sugar. She didn't look at him, just stirred massive amounts of sugar into her mug.<em>

"_A 'please' every now and again wouldn't go amiss," she replied finally, and a blush crept up her slender neck._

* * *

><p><em>Please, Jess. Stay here. We need you. <em> He didn't want to think about it, but his brain insisted on considering life without Jess in it. Never seeing that dimple when she smiled at him after he brought her chocolate. Never seeing her blush after she'd said too much and ended up saying something she regretted. Never hearing her voice in his ear while he was in the field, and feeling the sudden calm and clarity that accompanied the sound.

_If you will just hold on, fight it a little longer, I'll tell you everything. I promise_, he thought, already knowing he wouldn't. _God, I'm pathetic. I'm worse than Connor, and that's saying a lot._ Although, he had about a year to go before he officially became more pathetic than Connor; it had taken him three years to get together with Abby. But somehow Becker felt he could do without that particular, and rather dubious, distinction. Maybe he would bite the bullet and tell her how he felt after all.

_Please, Jess. Don't leave me. _Becker leaned over, brushing his lips softly against her hair, and whispered, almost inaudibly, "Please."

It was at that moment, inches from her face, breathing in the scent of her hair, that he noticed how shallow her breathing had become. Before, as she berated him for being mean, she'd been panting, as if he'd just forced her to run a mile, in her skirt and heels. Now he could barely hear her, the only sign she was breathing at all the slight rise and fall of her chest. Becker's stomach lurched painfully. _Don't you dare, Jess! Stay with us, and that's an order._ He fumbled in his jacket, still wrapped protectively about her torso, and pulled her arm out of it gently, checking the pulse in her wrist. It was faint, getting weaker all the time. Becker was fed up with all this waiting around. They needed to do something, now.


End file.
